His Felix Felicis
by Warden of Tol Eressea
Summary: Over the years, Daphne Greengrass has developed a strong appreciation for the game of Quidditch. And of a certain, messy-haired Gryffindor Seeker as well. A slightly AU version of HBP. Harry/Daphne.


**A/N: Hey all, kinda wanted to get an idea out of my head and onto paper. I always loved HBP and especially that Quidditch year and wanted to write something more Quidditch focused with Harry and Daphne.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor any of its characters**

**His Felix Felicis**

**Chapter 1**

If asked in a pinch, Daphne Greengrass really wouldn't be able to explain why she loved Quidditch as much as she did, as she sat in the stands of the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch amidst the shouts and cheers of her fellow classmates, her eyes glued on the fourteen players in the air above.

She could say that her family and friends had originally got her into the sport, but that would be a lie because none of her family nor her friends were avid fans.

She could say that it was because she supported her House team, but that wouldn't be completely true either. Sure, she would always support Slytherin but it was more of a formality than anything else. She did it out of House unity and her own pride as a Slytherin, not for any sense of attachment or passion towards the Slytherin team as a whole, and especially not for any of the dunces like Malfoy who played on the team. Besides, if that argument _was _valid, then she wouldn't be nearly as invested in the current game, the Inter-House Cup finals between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, as she would be for Slytherin games.

She could say it was because she loved flying and playing the sport herself, but she was a mediocre flyer in the best of times and certainly never so much as even touched a Quaffle in her life.

And so, whenever Daphne Greengrass is asked why she loves Quidditch as much as she does, she replies simply with, "I just do."

Because really, she didn't _have _to have a reason did she? No one can control what they're passionate about and for her, she just really loves Quidditch. Period. End of story.

If she were to do a little self-reflection and dig a little deeper, she would grudgingly admit that one valid reason would be she loved to follow individual players. She didn't really have a favorite professional team and so she couldn't honestly say she understood that particular part of being a fan: the wild joy or the heartbreaking disappointment whenever a favorite team won or lost. Instead, she felt that joy or disappointment when a favorite _player_ of hers won or lost. Because for her, it was these players that gave life to the game. The indomitable spirit in stars like Gwenog Jones or Aiden Lynch. The hype around a buried gem like reservist Landan O'Connor breaking out onto the scene for Falmouth. The opening season highs and lows, boom or bust potential of a promising rookie. These were the stories that she devoured in newspapers and magazines: the unique clash of personalities and rivalries; the interviews, scouting reports, and gossip surrounding major stars; the feeling of joy when a team won a championship, not because of the specific team in particular but because a favorite player of hers was on it.

But did that truly answer the question of why she loved Quidditch so much at Hogwarts? The players on the school teams definitely weren't professionals (yet) and, as such, had none of the media attention that came along with it. Of course, to be fair, some of her classmates' personalities, friendship drama, and squabbles both on and off the pitch were just as interesting in some regards as those of the professional players the media loved to cover. What they lacked in training and skill was more than made up for by their passion, grit, and drive, something that was omnipresent in every player, professional or otherwise.

It was a sufficient enough answer on the surface, but buried deep down, Daphne knew it wasn't the true reason why she loved Quidditch, why she never missed a game in her five years of Hogwarts education so far, and something she would deny even under the Cruciatus Curse to anyone who would even think of it.

Harry Potter.

The Gryffindor boy who had impressed McGonagall enough in their first year, their first flying lesson even, to earn a spot on the House team. The boy who became the youngest Seeker to play Quidditch in a hundred years. The Seeker who, throughout their five years at Hogwarts, had only lost a single game for Gryffindor (only counting games he played in of course because _Merlin _did that boy know how to get into trouble). And looking at that particular game objectively (ok fine, as objectively as she could be; she couldn't help but be a little biased in his favor), it really wasn't his fault they lost to Cedric Diggory and Hufflepuff. It took a Dementor attack to actually take Harry Potter out of the equation and he bounced right back up in their next match against Ravenclaw that year, not only catching the winning snitch but also managing to somehow produce a fully corporeal Patronus at Malfoy and his goons in the process; as if she wasn't already impressed enough.

Not that she would willingly admit it though. He was a Gryffindor and she was a Slytherin. It was as simple as that. Their two Houses hated each other on principle, a rivalry that had laid its roots since Hogwarts' founding it would seem. It was a clash of ideologies, values, and personality types that, in the past half-century, had spilled over into a full blown war with the rise of You-Know-Who. There were deeply rooted feelings of hate and prejudice on both sides that wouldn't be amended any time soon.

It was an unfortunate thing really. Not all Gryffindors adhered to the Gryffindor stereotype and not all Slytherins adhered to the Slytherin stereotype. The four Hogwarts Houses exalted traits that each respective Founder valued above all else: Gryffindor - bravery and chivalry, Hufflepuff - loyalty and justice, Ravenclaw - intelligence and wit, and Slytherin - ambition and cunning. But that did _not_ mean Gryffindors had no cunning or Slytherins weren't brave. People aren't born with their characteristics siloed that way. The traits the Four Houses exemplify are present in all people, just to varying degrees from person to person and it's this variance that defines each individual's personality. It was a concept that Daphne fundamentally understood and it was something she was sure every person at Hogwarts would probably understand as well with the proper amount of thought given to the subject. But to put this concept into practice wasn't as simple, because the fact of the matter remained that not every witch and wizard _have_ put that proper thought in and those who have (the Ministry was full of them) found it better for themselves to exploit these rifts for their own gain instead of trying to go about the much more difficult task of reconciliation.

Perhaps one day, the rift would be healed, but Daphne couldn't see that happening any time soon. In fact, it likely had gotten worse with Umbridge and the creation of her Inquisitorial Squad, which consisted of all Slytherins, and its primary purpose (for those who were being honest with themselves) was to make life miserable for the rest of the school, Gryffindors in particular.

Daphne had always wondered, rather amusedly, how Potter would react if he knew that his biggest fan (strictly Quidditch-wise, she told herself) was a Slytherin. Quidditch was exciting all on its own but it could not be denied that there was just something about Harry Potter that made every single Quidditch game he played in a pleasure to watch, from his first ever game when he nearly swallowed the Snitch to the exhilarating final match their third year against her own House. And ever since that spectacular display in their first flying lesson, she had become not only a fan of _him_ but also a Quidditch nut. She devoured everything she could get her hands on Quidditch-related from reading books and following newspapers and magazines to even compiling her own list of stats for each Hogwarts match that took place. But whenever Potter played, all of her attention was focused on him. It was magnetic and electric. His movements in the air was so natural and she could tell, even from a distance, how happy being on a broom made him.

Yet, for all that, Potter would never know of his Slytherin fan and she had no intentions of enlightening him, for it would cause problems for both of them in this already drama-filled school year. So for now, she was content to just sit and watch. Well...content was not the right word here. Potter had been banned from playing Quidditch since the first match this year between Gryffindor and Slytherin, something that she had been furious about (on the inside of course). Furious at Potter for letting Malfoy rile him up, furious at Malfoy for being Malfoy, and furious most of all at Umbridge for using the incident as an excuse to score a point in her ongoing vendetta against Potter.

There was nothing any of them can do about it now though. She was bummed about not getting to see Potter play very much this year, but evidently not as much as Potter was, speaking of whom was sitting a couple rows down in the bleachers with Granger morosely watching his team get slaughtered, much like what had happened in their last game against Hufflepuff when it was only due to the snitch catch by Ginny Weasley that Gryffindor avoided complete annihilation.

She could only imagine what it would be like to watch helplessly from the sidelines and perhaps that feeling was finally too much for Potter to bear as she saw him and Granger get up from their seats and leave with their friend Hagrid. It had not been a good year for Potter, or for any of them as a matter of fact, though as a Slytherin, she had it better than most. Perhaps watching his team (and especially his friend Weasley who was playing Keeper) play this atrociously was the hump that finally broke the camel's back for him.

Daphne ruefully tore her gaze away from where Potter had exited the stands and back at the game. For some reason, it felt less exciting to her now. The thought had barely crossed her mind before a tremendous roar rose from the crowd as Weasley made his first impressive save of the game (of the year even). Perhaps she had been too quick to write this game off as over as she directed her full attention back at the game at hand. Something told her that Potter would definitely regret missing this game.

* * *

"...Well, I'm terrified now, I s'pose Lord Voldemort's just a warm-up act compared to you three…"

Daphne froze in her tracks as she heard Potter's voice, dripping with sarcasm, coming in the Entrance Hall. O.W.L.s were finally over and she had been on her way to join her dorm-mates outside to enjoy the sunny weather and finally relax after months of studying when she heard You-Know-Who's name spoken. And everyone knew the only person their age brave enough to say You-Know-Who's actual name was Harry Potter.

Cautiously, she peeked around the corner and saw Potter talking to Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle in the empty Entrance Hall.

"You think you're such a big man, Potter," Malfoy snarled as the three Slytherins advanced on Potter, slowly forming an arc around him. "You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison."

Potter smirked. "I thought I just had." He seemed completely unfazed that he was outnumbered three to one.

So, for once, the Daily Prophet had actually been right about something. The news that broke just the other day that Lord Voldemort had returned had caused Hogwarts' rumor mill to erupt with speculation, because right there on the front page of that issue was a huge picture of a wounded Potter and a grave-faced Dumbledore with his arms around Potter's shoulders. If the shock of the return of the Dark Lord hadn't already made waves amongst the entire Wizarding World, then the fact that Potter had been involved in something that had occurred in the fabled Hall of Prophecies certainly did.

But Daphne had read a bit deeper into the news and saw the arrests of many Death Eaters that were found in the Ministry that day, including Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle's fathers, who had evidently been in a fight with Potter and his friends. What they were doing there remained a mystery, but it was clear that there was some truth to the article judging from what Potter had just said.

Dragging herself out of her thoughts, Daphne refocused her attention back at the unfolding scene. She had missed Malfoy's response but she could tell he was infuriated as he made to grab his wand. But all of a sudden, faster than she could blink and before Malfoy's hand had even reached into his pocket, Potter had his wand drawn and pointed directly at Malfoy's chest, causing the latter boy to freeze.

_Merlin that boy is fast._ Daphne thought as she stared wide-eyed at Potter's display.

From the expression on Malfoy's face, she wasn't the only one surprised, though she supposed she should have expected this. Not only was he the best Seeker Hogwarts has seen in years (again, perhaps she was just a tad biased), but Potter was also the top of their year when it came to Defense Against the Dark Arts and one didn't survive an encounter with You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters (multiple times) without having quick reflexes.

But before the situation could escalate further, Snape appeared and, a moment later, as did McGonagall, apparently recently discharged from St. Mungo's. Daphne slowly let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as McGonagall sent Crabbe and Goyle away and the tension defused. It was only until Potter had turned around and walked out of the Entrance Hall and Malfoy and Snape leaving shortly afterwards did she finally feel confident to emerge from her hiding spot and continue on her way outside.

She stopped at the archway and saw Potter walking past the lawns towards Hagrid's hut. There were students lying around on the grass, all of them enjoying the end of exams and the sun. Some of them called out to Potter, but he ignored them all.

There was something off with Potter, Daphne mused. He was different from how he normally was (and she should know, having quietly observed him all these years). The way he had talked to Malfoy. The way he talked to Snape even. It was almost...reckless in a way. Not that he didn't already have a reckless streak (one could tell just from watching him play Quidditch), but now it was bordering on something else. It was almost as if he just didn't care anymore. From the way he talked, the way he was walking right now, the way he ignored all the calls from some of the students just now, Daphne could tell he was hurting inside. He looked depressed, angry, and sad and it was no doubt because of what had happened at the Ministry. Although just what had specifically happened to affect him like so was a mystery to all but those in the know it would seem.

For a split second, she thought of running over and approaching him before she nipped the thought in the bud. A Slytherin's company would be the last thing he needed, she supposed, especially just after that run-in with Malfoy and Snape. In fact, any company at all probably wouldn't be welcome to him as of right now.

She sighed softly to herself as she watched Potter in the distance slowly make his way to Hagrid's hut. It was a bad ending to an even worse year for Potter. All year, Umbridge had gone out of her way to harass Potter and now all this business with You-Know-Who.

Times were changing and there would be more trouble to be had in the coming months. People were changing as well, she realized, even her. Most of the students in their year were sixteen now and next year they would be seventeen and legal adults. It was a daunting thought to be sure, tackling the big wide world all on your own, but one that everyone faced eventually.

Oh well. One small step at a time.

_Maybe next year, I'll actually talk to Potter,_ she thought idly.

Maybe in these changing times, it wouldn't be the end of the world to see a Gryffindor and a Slytherin be friends. But then again, maybe it would. She knew for a fact the Slytherins would probably throw a fit if they saw her suddenly be all friendly with Potter. Not that she particularly cared for any of their opinions but it would certainly be more than a minor annoyance to have deal with.

Potter was brave, braver than anyone she had ever met. He had faced down Voldemort and his Death Eaters. He had held his head high this entire year through the slander and harassment by both the Ministry and his own peers. And if he could be brave, then maybe she could be as well, brave enough to finally satisfy the urge she had felt for a while now to go and talk to him, get to know him, and maybe even befriend him and tell everyone else to mind their own business.

She smiled a bit ruefully at that. It was an entirely different courage than what Potter had but it was courage nonetheless. She doubted it would be that easy and they would just all of a sudden become friends.

_Small steps though,_ she reminded herself. _Small steps._

And with one last, wistful glance in Potter's direction, she headed down the steps in search of her dorm mates.


End file.
